Priorities
by Lianne Sentar
Summary: *Fixed the faulty formatting. Sorry for the inconvenience!* Tai/Matt friendship fic which, happily, won Nanaki Lioness's Tai/Matt friendship fic contest. Fashion, youth, love, and Japanese junk food. Rated PG-13 for an occasionally violent tone and intere


NOTES: 

PG-13 for occasionally violent tone and interest in the opposite gender. 

Taichi and Yamato are 16, and have had their personalities toyed with. I've also completely ignored the Sora issue. Not that Sora not existing is a bad thing. 

Although Taichi and Yamato definitely sound Western in most of this, the setting for the story _is_ Japan, and Taichi and Yamato _are_ Japanese, so I've tried to incorporate some Japanese culture and language in here. There's a culture list after the story to explain some of the more obscure references. 

Thanks!   
-Lianne (liannesentar@hotmail.com)   
http://Lianne_Sentar.tripod.com 

  
***Priorities***

"Your turn to pay." 

"You're _kidding_ me." 

"No I'm not. I paid last time, remember?" 

"And just when was that?" 

"That time we got noodles. Remember?" 

"You did _not_ pay, Taichi. I did." 

"No you didn't!" 

"Yes I did. You were _gonna_ pay, but realized you were broke." 

"That didn't happen!" 

"Yes it did." 

"Well, I don't remember it." 

"Nngh." 

"C'mon. It's the thought that counts, right?" 

"Nngh." 

"C'mon, Matt. Please?" 

Yamato rolled his eyes and pulled a handful of coins from his pocket. Dropping them onto the counter, he pushed a 500 yen piece toward the cashier. The young woman picked up the coin and dropped it into the register. 

"Arigato gozaimasu," she chirped, handing Yamato his change. Taichi snatched his Pocky and bubble gum and gave Yamato a quick hug around the shoulders. 

"Domo." 

Yamato made a face. "Not in public, Tai." 

Taichi rolled his eyes and opened his box of Pocky. He glanced at Yamato as the two of them walked out the sliding electronic doors of the convenience store and into the bright afternoon sunlight. Yamato, slipping a straw into his carton of strawberry milk, didn't seem to notice. 

"Ne, Matt." Taichi stole a look behind his shoulder. The cashier, who had been watching them leave, quickly averted her eyes. Taichi smiled. "She was checking you out," he murmured. 

Yamato blinked. "What?" He looked back. The cashier was awkwardly arranging the things at her counter. He turned to Taichi. "Her?" 

"'Arigato gozaimasu,'" Taichi cooed in a high voice, batting his eyelashes. 

Yamato snorted. "Like smiling when someone buys something is an indication," he muttered. "Don't be an idiot." 

"I'm not. And it wasn't just that." Taichi pushed a Pocky stick into his mouth. "She was watching us when we were looking around. And she watched us leave." 

Yamato smiled dryly. "Maybe she was checking _you_ out." 

"No." _I'm not that lucky,_ he thought. "I could tell when you paid." Taichi moved his gaze to the stores along Shibuya's sidewalks. In the large, dark glass window of an office, his reflection returned his stare. The image of Yamato, three centimeters taller, dressed in black jeans and a fashionable blue turtleneck, his perfect golden hair curled behind his ears and brushing the back of his neck, his perfect golden bangs tickling the long eyelashes of sky blue eyes, walked beside him. Taichi's face fell. _It definitely wasn't me she was checking out,_ he repeated to himself. 

"You seem to care an awful lot about it," Yamato murmured. He raised an eyebrow at Taichi. "You think about girls a lot?" 

Taichi raised an eyebrow back. "Don't you?" 

Yamato didn't say anything for a minute. When he at last commented, it was, "Nngh." 

Taichi bit into another Pocky stick. The sidewalks and parks were filled with Tokyo teenagers, his age, older, younger, in groups, in pairs, in couples. He saw a group of three females a little older than he sitting on a bench nearby. As he passed, one of the girls glanced at him, catching his eye for a moment before noticing Yamato. She raised her eyebrows and nudged the girl beside her. She murmured something, and the other girl looked up to catch sight of Yamato as well. 

_God._ Taichi ran a hand over his wild hair and swallowed. There was a sinking sensation in his chest that he didn't like. He felt bad for having it. 

But Yamato was still staring forward as he walked, one thumb hooked in his back pocket, his boots clicking against the afternoon sidewalk as he sucked pink milk up his straw. He didn't appear to have noticed anything. Taichi swallowed again and turned his head to try and dismiss his dropping heart. 

"Matt," he said after a moment. "What's with that shirt, anyway?" 

"Hmm?" Blue eyes flitted to him. 

"Your shirt." Taichi tugged on one of Yamato's sleeves. "Isn't it a little hot for this? You never dress down; this is tee-shirt weather." 

Yamato made a face. "I own plenty of tee-shirts, I just didn't feel like wearing one today. And there's nothing wrong with dressing nicely." He pushed his straw back into his mouth. "Besides," he murmured. "I'm not hot." 

_I doubt those girls back there would've agreed._

Taichi immediately cursed himself for the thought. What was wrong with him? He wouldn't let himself harbor negative feelings for Yamato over something so petty. He didn't even want to harbor negative feelings for Yamato over something _not_ so petty. 

Still, the low feeling inside him was making him nervous, and he didn't like that. He jammed several Pocky sticks into his mouth to try and forget it. 

Yamato slowed his pace near a tall department store. Looking up its massive side, he tossed his milk carton into a nearby trash bin and brushed a strand of golden hair behind his ear. 

"Tai." He gestured to the store. "Can we go in here? The kid's birthday's coming up, and I need to get him a present." 

"TK's?" 

"Yeah." 

"Woah." Taichi's eyebrows raised. "How old is he now?" 

Yamato let out a breath and pushed his hands into his pockets. "As frightening as the concept is, he'll be fourteen. Mom says she doesn't know what to do with his clothes since he keeps growing out of them so fast." 

Taichi smiled. He remembered little Takeru years before, with tear-filled eyes and short legs that had made him even shorter than Hikari. Taichi had been amazed to see the child grow into a tall, thin, smiling youth with a good heart and endless friends. Not to mention an odd knack for table soccer that put Taichi to shame every time they played. 

"So you wanna get him clothes?" 

Yamato shrugged. "Maybe. I lend him mine sometimes, but he's been big enough for that only recently. And he usually likes to dress more casually than I do." 

Taichi proudly pulled on his white Nike tee-shirt. "Casual's the way, baby." 

"Casually, Tai. Not like a jock." 

Taichi sucked in a breath. "That was cold, Ishida!" he complained. He thought a moment, then added, "In fact, for that," and punched Yamato hard in the upper arm. 

"Ow!" Yamato grabbed his arm and stepped back, scowling. "That hurt, Tai!" 

Taichi shrugged. "Well, strength's part of being a jock, isn't it?" 

"I didn't mean jock in a bad way." 

"Then I _took_ it in a bad way. Musicians can't use the word 'jock' and expect athletes to take it as a compliment." 

"Nngh." 

Taichi and Yamato stepped through the department store's sliding doors and into a rush of air-conditioned air. The store was quite crowded, and Shibuya teens talked and laughed as they bustled about. 

Yamato moved closer to Taichi as the two of them made their way to a nearby escalator. He had to raise his voice to be heard amidst the noise. 

"I mean it, Tai. I didn't mean to make fun of you." 

Taichi felt that sinking in his heart again, and another feeling nipped at him. He fumbled for another Pocky stick and shoved it in his mouth. "Ok," he murmured, unsure of what to say. 

Yamato rested long, guitar-calloused fingers on the escalator rail. "I'm always amazed with your talent at sports," he said. "You're probably the fittest person I know. It must be great to be that athletic." 

Sinking. Taichi swallowed and looked away. "I'd trade it all for your looks," he mumbled. 

Yamato turned to him abruptly. "What'd you just say?" 

A teenaged girl running up the escalator suddenly crashed into Yamato. Taichi grabbed the girl's elbow as she stumbled. Yamato, knocked off-balance, clutched the railing to keep from pitching headfirst down the stairs. 

The girl blushed in Taichi's hold, meeting eyes with him quickly before lowering her head and giving an apologetic bow. "Sumimasen," she breathed. She turned to Yamato, bowed, and met his eyes. She faltered briefly and blushed again, then ran up the remaining steps and disappeared into the store. 

Faltered. Blushed. Taichi jammed three more Pocky sticks into his mouth. 

The next floor was boys' clothes, so after Taichi and Yamato stepped off the escalator, they went to explore. It wasn't long before they found a section with suitable sizes. 

"Ok." Taichi pulled a tee-shirt from a rack. "What are you looking for? Pants? Shirts?" 

"Shirts, I think." He looked at the tee-shirt Taichi had pulled, then shook his head. "More formal than that," he said as he started fishing through the racks. 

"I thought you said he's more casual than you." 

"He is. But he's getting older now, so I wanna get him something a _little_ sophisticated." 

Taichi chuckled dryly. "I'm sure it won't help him ward off the girls. He's getting to be pretty good-looking, isn't he?" 

Yamato looked at Taichi oddly. "There you go again," he murmured as he pushed aside shirts. "Girls again. What is it with you today?" 

Sinking. Pocky. "Nothing," he lied as he crunched. 

Yamato pulled a blue button-up shirt from the rack and held it up. He examined it a moment, then put it back. 

"He's mentioned girls have started showing interest," he said as he continued to search. "But you know as well as I do that he's not one to entertain proposals. Plus, he's kinda dedicated to your sister." 

"So _that's_ where Kari's been." 

Yamato looked up. "What?" 

Taichi pulled out a nylon jacket. "Kari's been coming home late from school recently. She said she was staying after to work on a research project, but one of her friends told me that project was due a long time ago." He held up the jacket and smiled. "Remind me to beat up your brother." 

Yamato smiled back. "Ok. And no, that's something _you_ would wear." 

"Exactly. Very attractive." 

"For you." 

"For TK." 

"No." 

"Fine. How would it look on me?" 

"Try it on." 

Taichi pushed his box of Pocky into his pocket and slid his arms through the emerald green windbreaker. Straightening it, he turned to Yamato. 

Yamato looked at Taichi a moment, then an amused grin curled the corners of his mouth. "It's very you," he murmured as he focused his attention back on the rack. 

Taichi scowled. "Cut it out, Matt." 

"What? I'm serious." 

"You know that's not what I mean." Taichi turned back to the mirror and examined the long white stripe down each arm. "Is it, y'know, attractive?" 

"It's you." 

"Yamato!" Taichi whipped to him. "I said cut it out!" 

Cool sky eyes raised. Yamato's eyebrows furrowed. "You're upset," he said quietly. 

Taichi felt color flood to his cheeks. "I'm not upset," he said quickly, looking down at his sleeves. "I just ... just tell me. Does it make me look good?" 

Yamato didn't say anything for a moment. When he at last turned his gaze back to the rack of shirts, he said, "_I_ think it does." 

Taichi's face fell. That nipping feeling pushed at his heart, and he absently pulled at the cloth on his chest. Guilt. That nipping was guilt. He watched Yamato calmly push aside shirts, and a lump raised in his throat. 

_Oh man._

Quickly blinking his eyes, Taichi took off the jacket. He mumbled something about "being broke anyway" as he hung it back on the rack. 

Just then, something black caught his eye. He reached into the rack and pulled out a fashionable black coat, short, and made of a fabric of thickness somewhere between a coat's and a shirt's. It was intended to be worn open. 

"Yo, Matt." He held it up. "What about this?" 

Yamato glanced up, then quickly looked again and focused his attention fully. His eyebrows raised in approval. 

"I like it." 

Taichi turned the coat around. "Do you think TK will?" 

"It needs something under it." Yamato quickly flipped through the rack and pulled out a standard white dress shirt. He walked over to Taichi and took the coat. 

Taichi pointed to a dressing room nearby. "You can try it on," he suggested. "You said you and TK are about the same size now, right?" 

Yamato frowned at the line of people near the dressing room. "Yeah," he murmured, "but that line's gonna take a while to wear out." He thought a moment while looking around. "Nobody's nearby, right?" 

Taichi gave Yamato a skeptical look. "You're not gonna try it on here." 

Yamato handed the coat and shirt to Taichi. "Hold these," he said, before quickly pulling his turtleneck over his head. He took the white shirt from Taichi and slid into it. 

"God," Taichi murmured, stepping in front of his friend to shield Yamato from any prying female eyes. After buttoning and tucking in the shirt, Yamato pulled on the black coat and smoothed down his hair. 

"What do you think?" he asked, slipping his thumbs into his back pockets and turning sideways, then forward. He glanced in the mirror and turned sideways again. "Is it TK?" 

Sinking. Taichi swallowed. His eyes scanned the area around him, almost certain there would be females. 

"Tai?" Yamato frowned, then followed Taichi's gaze. "What are you looking at?" 

Taichi swallowed again, hard. "Nothing," he blurted. "It's good. It'll fit TK." 

Yamato looked down at the coat. "But will he like it?" 

"It'll look great," Taichi said quickly, fumbling with his box of Pocky. He shoved several sticks into his mouth. 

A model. Yamato looked like a _model_ in that black coat, in that white shirt, in those black jeans with his perfect body and perfect face and perfect hair. Taichi had always had trouble guessing what girls liked; he, like most males, was often perplexed by the female race. But seeing Yamato in those clothes, posing with his thumbs in his pockets and his blue eyes wide in questioning, Taichi knew, he _knew_, that girls would be after the flawless blond boy before him. 

His heart sank. 

Guilt stung in his veins. 

He wanted to fight. 

He wanted to cry. 

He jammed four Pocky into his mouth. 

Yamato let out a breath, pulling up the price tag that hung from the coat's sleeve. He winced. "Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's worth it." He removed the coat. "I think TK'll like something a little elegant. Gigs've been paying recently, so I guess there's no better person to spend it on than my baby brother." 

Taichi mumbled an affirmative as he crammed Pocky into his mouth. His heart had started pounding in his chest, but the Pocky, rather than helping him, felt heavy in his sour stomach. He swallowed hard, then coughed up a few crumbs. He quickly brushed them from his face. 

Yamato, checking the price tag of the white dress shirt, didn't notice. "I can get this, too." He unbuttoned the shirt, and, after glancing around, slipped it off and handed it to Taichi. "Hold this again?" 

Taichi numbly accepted the shirt. As Yamato picked up his turtleneck and pulled it over his head, Taichi noticed a darkening on Yamato's upper arm. A large patch of perfect skin that was slightly dim. 

A bruise. 

Guilt. 

Guilt. 

_Oh God._

The way Yamato had grabbed his arm when Taichi had hit him, the darkening of Yamato's eyes, toyed with Taichi's mind. Taichi had hit him. 

_"I didn't mean jock in a bad way."_

Of course Yamato hadn't meant to really insult him. Taichi had known that. But he had punched Yamato anyway. 

_"That hurt, Tai!"_

That perfect skin, dimmed. A bruise. 

Guilt. 

Guilt. 

"Matt," Taichi said, quietly, his voice a little clogged. He averted his eyes. "Did that punch really hurt you?" 

Yamato pulled his golden hair from the tall collar. He looked to Taichi. "Hmm?" 

Taichi carefully reached out and touched Yamato's upper arm. He could feel Yamato's body recoil from sensitivity before Yamato pulled away. The blond stared at him, confusion written across his face. 

"What are you doing, Tai?" Yamato brushed his fingers over his arm. "This?" 

"I really hurt you." A lump rose in Taichi's throat. Guilt. 

Yamato snorted. "Well, yeah. You don't know your own strength." 

"Yes I do." 

Yamato stopped. For a long moment, he only stared. "What?" he asked slowly, carefully. His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?" 

_You hurt him._

_You hurt him._

Beautiful, flawless Yamato. 

Bruise. 

_You hurt him._

"Tai?" 

_On purpose._

"Yo, Tai." Yamato took Taichi by both shoulders. "What's wrong with you?" 

Taichi blinked his eyes to clear them. Accusations, realizations, rung in his head. He slowly reached up and touched Yamato's unhurt arm. Guilt swirled in his stomach, and he fought down the churning that made him feel sick. 

"S-sorry," Taichi mumbled. Lump. Swallow. "I'm sorry I ... hit you, Matt." 

Yamato, frustrated, let out a breath. "Geez," he muttered, releasing his friend. "It's no big deal. Forget it, ok?" 

"I'm sorry, Matt." He held his churning stomach. "I really ... am." 

Yamato picked up the coat and shirt he wanted to buy and slung them over his shoulder. Turning to Taichi with lowered eyelids, he murmured, "Tai, you hitting me for the thousandth time isn't something to apologize for. I owe you a punch, and that's that." 

"But-" 

"I don't wanna hear it." He shook his head, more to himself than to mean anything. "Man. You've gotta stop letting the little things get to you so much. Relax, ok?" 

Guilt. 

Taichi swallowed against his rumbling stomach and averted his eyes. The internal conflict that had been within him all that afternoon was becoming stronger, clearer. But when he tried to think about it, he felt sick. 

His stomach grumbled again. Yamato didn't appear to hear it. 

The blond swept his gaze around for a register. Finding one, he motioned with his head. "Do you mind if I buy these now?" 

Taichi scratched the back of his neck. "Sure," he said, a little hesitant. "They, uh, they might gift wrap." 

"Hey, you're right. Good thinking." Yamato made his way to the register, and Taichi hurried to walk alongside him. Yamato turned to him and smiled. "My wrapping skills leave much to be desired." 

Taichi swallowed and smiled slightly. "I know what you mean," he agreed. "Mom always does mine." 

"One of the many downsides of not living with your mother. There's no one to do that kinda stuff, y'know?" Yamato ran his tongue over his teeth. "Dad's even worse at domestic things than I am. He still can't mend a pair of pants to save his life." 

A mental image of Yamato, bent over a pair of slacks with pins in his mouth, made Taichi smile. "So you sew, too?" he asked. 

"Horribly." 

"If it makes you feel any better, I used to always prick myself on Mom's needles when I was kid. Ever since then ..." He looked to his hands. "She tried teaching me to sew a few years ago. I nicked myself so many times she was scared I'd bleed to death." 

"That _is_ bad." Yamato smirked. "Yeah, that does make me feel better." 

At the register, Yamato paid for the clothes and gladly took the fancy gift wrapped box. He and Taichi took the escalator down and once again joined the ranks of Tokyo's youth outside. 

Taichi took a breath and tried to calm his insides. It was conflict, he had come to realize. Not just that sinking and that guilt. There was something within him debating back and forth, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

But what? Debating _what_? 

Yamato opened the plastic bag the cashier had given him and carefully put the large gift box inside. "Thanks for letting me get that over with," he said. "TK's birthday's in a week, and I really didn't wanna wait until the last minute to shop." 

Taichi shrugged distractedly. "Sure," he murmured, letting his eyes follow the teenagers who filled the sidewalks around him. Every time he saw a pretty girl he could feel that conflict bubble up inside of him. Debate. What was it? He could feel words to describe it pushing their way to the surface of his brain, but they hadn't quite made it yet.... 

Yamato furrowed his eyebrows. He rested a hand on Taichi's shoulder. "You ok, Tai?" he asked. "You've been kinda out of it today." 

Taichi swallowed. He wanted to know what was going on inside of him, but it wasn't clear yet. "Y-yeah," he mumbled at last, shaking his head. His stomach rumbled painfully, and he pushed a Pocky stick into his mouth. 

Yamato sighed. "You can be such a handful," he muttered, reaching into his pocket as he walked over to a nearby vending machine. He pulled out several hundred yen, slipped the coins into the slot, and pushed one of the buttons twice. Two cans rolled onto the machine's bottom shelf. 

"Wanna sit?" He held out the two Pocari Sweats. 

Rumbling. "Yeah," Taichi said after a moment, taking one of the cans. He and Yamato walked over to a set of stone stairs and sat down. 

Yamato popped the tab on his soda. "So what homework do you have today?" he asked as his soda fizzled. 

Taichi opened his own soda and took a long swallow to try and clear his mind. "Kinda a lot," he said breathlessly, before guzzling again. That conflict was still pushing in his mind. He could almost feel it surfacing.... 

"Woah, don't drown yourself." Yamato took Taichi's arm and gently pulled it down, bringing the soda with it. Taichi licked his lips and averted his eyes. He could feel how light the can had gotten, and he felt slightly bad for nearly downing the thing in one go. 

Yamato frowned at Taichi a moment. Letting out a breath, he brought his own can to his lips. "I have a lot, too," he said before taking a sip. 

Taichi nodded absently, shaking his can to hear the thin layer of liquid slosh around inside. He drank the remaining soda as Yamato yawned. 

"We have a test in Bio this week," Taichi asked, running the back of a hand over his moist lips. "Right?" 

Yamato rubbed his eyes. "We're not in the same Bio, Tai." 

"Oh." Taichi looked away. "Right." 

There was a long moment where neither of them spoke, where Taichi watched the teenagers who passed and Yamato studied his boots, lost in thought. 

Yamato yawned again. 

"You tired, Matt?" 

"Yeah." 

They said nothing more. Taichi scratched the back of his neck anxiously. He watched Yamato stare at his soda can, the blond's long fingers tapping against the thin metal with a musician's elegance. Taichi brought his own can to his mouth and tipped his head back, but there were only a few drops of liquid left. He licked the ones clinging to the tab edge. 

"Hey, boys." 

Taichi, surprised, looked up at the unfamiliar voice. A few teenage girls, fashionably dressed, quite attractive, and a year or two older than Taichi and Yamato, stood on a lower stair. With their huge platform sandals, the girls were, Taichi noticed, substantially taller than he. 

One of the girls smiled coquettishly. "You kids with anyone?" she asked. 

"Ourselves." Yamato barely glanced at the females before focusing his attention back on his soda can. Taichi had no idea how Yamato could look so calm, considering Taichi's own insides were flipping madly. Girls practically _never_ approached Taichi, and if they did, it was usually an underclassman who breathlessly came to blush at him and stammer compliments after a soccer game. But never an older girl. An older girl he'd never met. A _good-looking_ older girl he'd never met. 

Several good-looking older girls he'd never met. 

Taichi tried to keep himself breathing properly. 

"Ne," one of the girls chuckled, crouching to be closer to Yamato's height. She rested her cheek against her hand, the slim bracelets on her wrist tinkling against each other. "A pretty thing like you doesn't have a girlfriend?" 

Taichi's mind fogged up as emotion churned inside him. Sinking. Guilt. Conflict. He saw Yamato give the girl a disapproving look. 

Another girl with chestnut hair laughed, slipping the edge of her sunglasses between her lip-gloss-coated lips. She raised an eyebrow. "We can't just let two cuties spend an afternoon in Shibuya without female company," she drawled. 

Another girl in a fashionable yellow sundress crouched beside Taichi. "I like sporty boys," she murmured with a smile. She winked at him, making his insides jump. Blood rushed in his ears as his heart thudded madly. 

The girl leaned over to him. "Wanna get some tea?" she whispered. "You can hang out with your pretty boy friend another time, can't you?" 

Taichi felt the world freeze. 

It was that. It was _that._ As realization draped over him, the debate, the conflict that had been within him all afternoon, the conflict he hadn't been able to name, suddenly became crystal clear in the hazy, frozen cloud of his mind. 

Girls or Yamato. He was debating over which was more important: girls, or his best friend. 

Taichi couldn't feel his heart beat. Despite the fact that he stared dumbly at the pretty, flirtatious girl crouched before him, he completely forgot that she was there. He didn't know what to feel. Horror, anger - he had no idea what emotion should've been roaring inside him. But something. He knew he should've been feeling _something_ besides shock. 

Because he didn't know. 

He _didn't know what he valued more._

Yamato suddenly stood. Irritably tossing his half-full soda in a nearby trash can, he stepped over to Taichi, pulled his friend to his feet, and turned cool sky eyes to the girls. "Thanks, but we're busy." He led the stupefied Taichi down the sidewalk, leaving the disappointed girls behind (save the girl with the chestnut hair, who, undaunted, blew a kiss at the boys as they departed). 

They walked. Yamato released Taichi after a few moments, but they still walked, they walked together and left the girls far behind. Yamato was silent. Taichi, his mouth open slightly, was amazed that his feet were still planting themselves one in front of the other. He had certainly forgotten about controlling his body long ago. 

He didn't know what he valued more. 

"Tai." Yamato, at last looking to his friend, frowned. "Are you ok?" 

He didn't know what he valued more. 

"You look totally out of it, Tai. Are you all right?" A hand on Taichi's shoulder. 

He didn't know what he valued more. 

"Tai." Yamato stopped. "Cut it out. It's not funny." 

But Taichi didn't stop. He kept walking, walking, walking as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his box of Pocky. 

_Matt's been my best friend since I was 11._

The box was empty. He numbly let it drop from his hand, not noticing the _pat_ sound as it hit the concrete, and pulled out his bubble gum pack. 

_I can't compete. Girls'll always choose him._

"Tai?" 

Tai didn't hear it. He tore the wrapping from his gum and shoved a piece into his mouth. 

_He's my best friend._

"Tai, wait!" 

Another piece. Another. He shoved the hard squares of pink into his mouth. 

_But I want a girl._

"Tai!" 

_I want a girl._

"Tai!" 

_I want a girl._

"TAI!" Yamato ran and grabbed Taichi's arm. 

Taichi suddenly choked. He doubled over, gagging violently as he grabbed his throat. He couldn't breathe. Vainly clawing at his neck, he felt the blood pound in his temples and make his head hot. His vision dimmed. 

Yamato abruptly jammed his hand into Taichi's mouth and ripped out the huge wad of gum that had lodged itself in Taichi's throat. He grabbed the coughing Taichi and shoved him at a trash can. Taichi sagged against the barrel, hand on his neck, and gasped in breaths while fighting his body's urge to throw up. 

A cool hand rested on his forehead. "It's all right if you puke," Yamato said quickly. "It's normal to do that when you choke badly." 

Taichi's mind spun as he heaved. Not sure what had happened, he looked to his clenched fist. Inside his palm were the wrappings of the six pieces of gum he had crammed in his mouth. He could feel the eyes of every youth in Shibuya on him, he could see them when he turned his blurry eyes up and noticed that the girls on the sidewalk who stared were like the girls he had seen all day. His heart dropped, his stomach churned, and he grabbed the sides of the trash can. 

He vomited. 

Shakily, Taichi lifted his head from the barrel. Yamato's hand, the sleeve pulled up and pinched between his thumb and forefinger, wiped Taichi's mouth. Used the sleeve to wipe his mouth. Used the fashionable turtleneck, the beautiful sky blue turtleneck, to wipe acidic disgorge from Taichi's foolish mouth. 

Taichi's eyes filled with tears. 

"Don't cry," Yamato admonished softly. Taking a shaky breath, he dropped the wad of gum in the trash and closed his hand over Taichi's arm. "There's a restaurant here. We can wash up in the bathroom." 

Taichi rubbed his eyes with the back of a hand. He let Yamato lead him through the restaurant's door and into its slightly dimmed atmosphere. He barely heard Yamato give a quick explanation to the attendant by the door and barely felt himself being led through a small door and into a tiny, brightly-lit bathroom. Barely saw Yamato turn on the sink and set a steady, softly-hissing stream of water into the porcelain. 

"C'mon, Tai." Yamato carefully maneuvered himself around the toilet so he could shut the door. He locked it, then gestured with his head. "Go on." 

Taichi sniffed and blinked his eyes to clear them. Swallowing, he looked up at his reflection in the wide bathroom mirror. He was pale, his eyes were red, and his hair was disheveled even beyond its normal extravagance. Beside him, flawlessly beautiful Yamato bent over the sink to wash his hands in the water. Taichi watched Yamato roll up the stained sky blue sleeve. 

Tears stung his eyes again. "I'm sorry, Matt," he croaked. "I really embarrassed you." 

Yamato shrugged, though he trembled slightly. "So a few people watched you choke yourself and upchuck in a trash can," he murmured. "Big deal." 

"It _is_ a big deal." Taichi clutched the arm with the rolled-up sleeve. "And I ruined this. I ruined your shirt because I was an idiot." 

Yamato pulled his arm back. "It'll wash out," he said flatly, rolling up his other sleeve to match. "Quit it, Tai." 

"I ruined it." 

Yamato narrowed his eyes. "I said quit it." 

Taichi hiccuped as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I _ruined_ it!" 

"Shut UP!" Yamato slammed his palm against the porcelain. He clutched the edge of the sink, trembling, his sky eyes glassy. "I could care less about the stupid shirt!" he shouted. "You really SCARED me, Tai!" 

Tai hiccuped again, the tears rolling down his face. Yamato held his own forehead and closed his eyes. 

"I nearly panicked," he mumbled shakily. "You started gagging really badly, and I didn't know what was wrong with you. I was afraid you were having a seizure or something. You ... God, Tai." Yamato gritted his teeth. "I thought you were gonna die." 

Guilt. 

Taichi buried his face in his hands and cried. The guilt flooded through him, tightening his heart and sending images of those girls at the steps spinning through his mind. He was a horrible friend. A traitorous friend. 

"Taichi." Yamato's fingers touched his shoulder. Taichi pulled away. 

"I'm an idiot," Taichi sobbed. "I don't deserve you." 

A moment. "Shut up, Tai," Yamato ordered darkly. 

"I'm an IDIOT!" Taichi's fingers buried into his temples. "You don't GET IT! This whole day I didn't know, and when I walk out that door I STILL won't know! You've been my best friend for FIVE YEARS and I STILL don't know if you're more important to me than girls!" 

Yamato froze. There was a long moment where he didn't say anything, where the only sound in the tiny bathroom was of the streaming water and Taichi's violent sobs. 

"Tai." Yamato's voice was quiet. "Is _that_ what this is all about?" 

Taichi pushed his fists into his eyes. "I'm jealous of you," he sobbed. "You're what every girl wants, and as long as I'm with you, you'll always be who's chosen. I feel guilty for being jealous, but that still doesn't mean I _don't_ get jealous. And I don't know if you're more important to me than girls are!" Taichi clutched locks of his wild hair and pressed them against the tears on his cheeks. "I don't DESERVE you!" 

Again, it was a moment before the dazed Yamato spoke. "Are you serious?" he whispered. "Do you really want a girl that badly?" 

Taichi only cried harder. 

Yamato swallowed. Shaking his head to clear it, he slowly reached out and took the trembling Taichi by the shoulders. He took a breath. 

"Taichi," he said carefully. "Listen to me. Girls are all well and good, but at this age, pursuing them isn't worth it. Of course we both wanna get married and have kids and all that, but that's not for a long time. Girls are too much trouble right now." 

Taichi hiccuped. "But ... but don't ..." He sobbed, swallowed, and tried again. "Don't you ... y'know, want a special person in your life?" 

"I already _have_ one, Tai. You." 

Taichi stopped dead. "Wh-what?" he breathed. 

Yamato sighed. "You're my best friend," he said quietly. "There's no void in my heart for a soulmate because you already fill it." 

Taichi froze. Yamato Ishida, the head of the one of the most popular teen bands in Tokyo and very likely the coolest person to ever attend their school, didn't need girls, didn't need love, because he had _Taichi_? 

Soulmate. Taichi had never thought of it that way. Was part of the reason he wanted a girl because he wanted someone to confide in, someone to hold him when he was sad, someone to worry about him, someone to laugh with him and hang with him and make him feel loved? 

Yamato already _did_ all those things. Well, except for the hugging thing, because Yamato wasn't big on touching males beside Takeru. But he did everything else. Taichi had never thought of it in such a way, but Yamato provided - had _always_ provided - Taichi with love. 

Love. 

Taichi tried to get his mouth to form words. "Are ... are you saying ..." He swallowed, shakily. "Do you mean we don't need girls as long as we have each other?" 

Yamato's eyelids lowered. "You obviously weren't listening," he said, pushing Taichi's forehead with his index finger. "We don't need girls _now_. We may go bonkers if we don't _ever_ get girls." He raised an eyebrow. "Girls provide something guy friends can't, y'know?" 

Taichi couldn't help but smile slightly. "Y-yeah," he mumbled. 

Yamato's eyes wandered to the still-running faucet. Neither of them had bothered to shut it off. 

"I think I know what your problem is," he said after a moment. "You're having your first major bout with hormones." 

Taichi blinked. "What?" 

Yamato shook his head. "I'm _not_ going into the details of that, Taichi. You should've been taught about the birds and the bees years ago." He let out a breath. "It sucks and all, but you'll learn to deal with it. We all go through it. I'm just surprised this is the first time it's really gotten to you." He raised an eyebrow, a smirk curving his lips. "Man, Tai, when'd you hit puberty? This year?" 

Taichi turned red. "That's none of your business," he snapped. He humphed and started rubbing the tears from his cheeks. 

But he knew Yamato was right. He may've been debating it, but deep down Taichi had probably always known that his relationship with Yamato was one of the most important things in his life. Fervent teenage interest in romance was fleeting. A best friend wasn't. 

He probably wouldn't have been able to put it together so clearly if Yamato hadn't spelled it out for him. 

Taichi ran his wrist under his nose. "I guess," he murmured. "You're right, Matt." 

"Yeah. Well." Yamato hunched his shoulders in a brief shrug. "Hurry up and use the sink. I'm getting uncomfortable being crammed in here with you." 

Sniffing, Taichi quickly washed his mouth and face and ran some water through his hair. Once he'd arranged the disheveled brown locks into their regular organized chaos, Yamato unlocked the door and the two of them squeezed out. Yamato bowed slightly to the restaurant attendant as they passed. 

In the afternoon sun again, Taichi felt the heaviness in his heart slowly lift. He looked over at Yamato as the blond sighed and brushed a strand of golden hair behind his ear. 

"Um, Matt?" 

Yamato checked his watch. "What?" 

"Thanks." Taichi smiled slightly. "Y'know, for saying that." 

Yamato shrugged. "Nngh." 

"And I think of you the same way. Ok?" He carefully reached out and took Yamato's hand. "You're really important to me." 

Yamato pulled his hand back. "Not in public, Tai." 

Taichi sighed. "Right." 

Yamato checked his watch again. He yawned. "It's past four," he said. "I still have homework. And I have to cook for Dad." 

Taichi let out a breath. "I have stuff to do, too," he agreed. "Let's grab the subway." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins. He counted them on his palm. "And I think I actually have enough to pay for myself this time," he added. 

"I suppose miracles _do_ happen." Yamato pulled out his own money as he and Taichi walked to the nearby subway stop and descended the stairs. After buying their tickets through the machines, they waited for the train with a handful of other teenagers. Yamato yawned again. 

"What's wrong?" Taichi frowned. "You look exhausted." 

Yamato rubbed his eyes. "Band practice's gone late recently," he said, "so homework's kept me from going to bed at a reasonable hour." He shot Taichi a sour look. "And you've certainly worn me out today." 

Taichi shot him a sour look back. "Well, _forgive me_. It's not like I _planned_ to nearly choke myself unconscious." 

"You weren't just looking for attention?" 

"Knock it off." 

The train suddenly flew by, whipping Taichi's tee-shirt around his boyish torso. As Yamato tried to keep his hair from his eyes, Taichi noticed a girl watching him. Her eyes lingered on the tired, beautiful face under that tossing golden hair. 

Taichi smiled. 

The train slid to a stop. Taichi and Yamato boarded and took two seats opposite half a dozen in-conversation youths their age. Yamato yawned and leaned against the window behind his head. 

The train chugged to a start. Taichi slowly, carefully, put his arm around Yamato's shoulders. 

"Hey." He motioned to his own shoulder. "Go ahead." 

Yamato, despite his drooping eyes, frowned. He looked visibly uncomfortable under Taichi's touch. 

"Come _on_." Taichi gave his friend a skeptical look. "I gave up being madly envious of you, pretty boy." 

Yamato mumbled something in his throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he rested his head against Taichi's shoulder. Taichi removed his arm. Yamato closed his eyes. 

"Ne, Matt." Taichi watched the chatting girls opposite them. "When we get older, can we go find girls together?" 

"Sure," Yamato mumbled. 

Taichi hesitated a moment. "If I never found one, would you stay single so we could live the rest of our lives together in a bachelor pad?" 

Yamato frowned. "Nngh." 

Taichi smiled. "Guess not," he sighed. "There's only so far you'll go for me, huh?" 

But Yamato didn't reply. When Taichi looked down, he saw that Yamato had already fallen asleep. 

  
**End**

Dedicated to my best friend Becca, who's certainly more important than boys. 

-Shibuya: One of the sections of Tokyo best-known for being a youth hangout; in the episode where Matt and TK were running around Tokyo with Pumpkinmon and Gatsumon ("Out on the Town"), the four of them were in Shibuya. Indeed, they bumped into a 21st century teen while they were there. ^_^ The specific buildings, etc. I've written about are _not_ based on actual places in Shibuya, unfortunately. My own visit to Shibuya was sadly brief. 

-"Arigato gozaimasu": Standard polite way to say "Thank you." 

-"Domo": Short way to say "Thank you." 

-Pocky: Japanese cookie sticks dipped in flavoring. They come in many flavors, but the standard is, I believe, chocolate-dipped. A very famous and popular snack, as I know many North Americans have visited Chinatowns and enjoyed many a box. 

-Strawberry milk: Strawberry-flavored milk, as you probably guessed. Flavored milks (besides chocolate milk, of course) seem to be more popular in Asia and Japan than in America. 

-"Sumimasen": Standard polite way to say "Excuse me." 

-The always popular Japanese "Ne": In this story, used as "Hey." 

-Pocari Sweat: Famous Japanese soda. Yes, that's its _actual_ name. I think the creators just misspelled the English "Sweet." ^_^ 


End file.
